


An Unholy Predicament

by kiwi05622



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Dark, Death Eaters, Domestic Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Mental Health Issues, Muggle Life, Muggle Technology, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Psychological Torture, Rehabilitation, Slow Burn, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25547719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwi05622/pseuds/kiwi05622
Summary: The war has ended and Hermione doesn't waste a single minute to head to Australia to find her parents and correct the wrongs that she has done to them. However, what would happen when she finds out that her dad has an entirely new life there with an evil witch that he now calls wife? Trapped in a house without her magical ability and wand, how will Hermione escape this fate that she feels responsible for?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer! Although it's pretty obvious, I do not own Harry Potter, it all belongs to JK Rowling, including the characters :D Expect the storyline and a few original characters are mine! 
> 
> Hello everyone and welcome to my first ever story! I am very excited to finally share it with you!!! 
> 
> As previously promised, if you’ve read my one-shot you know that I planned a long multi-chapter story. I have been working very hard on this story for a few months now. This story is very close to my heart so please be kind. Constructive criticism will always be welcomed! This is my first story at the end of the day and I am still learning as I write. Please let me know what you think. 
> 
> I just wanted to point out one thing here. This story is Dramione. However, it is very Hermione centric. We will be going on a wild journey with her. So if Malfoy does not make an appearance please don't be discouraged. He will be coming I promise. And when he does, he's staying and not going anywhere. If this is not the kind of story you are interested in, you might not enjoy this story. I thank you for stopping by anyways. 
> 
> I will tag appropriately as the story goes along. The main trigger warnings that I want to give right off the bat is that this story will tackle violence, mental abuse, and child abuse. This is a dark story at the end of the day but I promise it will not be all dark and angsty and you can expect some humor and fluff here and there. Oh, and how could I forget, it will also include sexual conduct in future chapters :) 
> 
> Beta love goes to hslade 
> 
> P.S. I don't have a schedule just yet for this story, but it would be once a week or once every two weeks, once I have enough written down, I can post once a week :D  
> Enjoy!

It had started just over a year ago, though her memory did not quite reach that far back, her memory seemed like fragments of a dream and remnants of something she desperately tried to hold on to. It seemed like a past life.

She thought she had known pain, had felt the worst of it when she suffered at the hands of Bellatrix and been shocked at the bigotry and hate still present everywhere. 

It was exhausting to think about.

She sat on a broken-off piece of stone at Hogwarts and while she had studied literary analysis on one of her many binges to the library, she was far too exhausted to even make up the comparison. She was exhausted, too worn out to form words let alone run the possibilities through her usually bright mind.

The castle that had once looked imposing as she had crossed the lake in her first year and had become home. Now looked to be crumbling at its foundations, no longer warm and welcoming but broken.

Magic could do many wonderful things, a simple 'reparo' could fix the results of clumsiness, often by Ron's hand, but even magic had limits. It would take years, perhaps even decades to return Hogwarts to its former glory. What she would give to be able to just simply push it back into what it once had been, turn back the clock almost as if it were a time-turner.

Harry had once told her how unreal the death of Cedric had been for him. Her friend did not exactly like to talk about it, but he had eventually cracked and burst open at the therapy, like prods she so tactfully did to get him to talk.

Shock. It had numbed the scarier feelings at first and though he had eventually been forced to confront it, if not by words, by the nightmares that he had begun having in the following weeks. He had had a few weeks, afar too brief a period, where it all seemed like a bad fantasy.

Hermione did not have that luxury.

She couldn't help but mourn the dead, some of her closest friends were dead, even people she had called family were dead. To start listing names would be somehow more exhausting than the pure grief of her losses that already filled her and yet their names hung around her head, like dark clouds hanging over a beautiful summer's day.

She had endured a lot over the years, and even more during the past months of weaving and hiding and still a single bright spot shone upon the horizon of her future.

Sending her parents away had been the hardest thing she ever had to do. War was cruel like that, it forced people to make hard choices and she wasn't entirely at rest with her own.

Even so, with all the loss that she had endured, she couldn't help but feel a spark of hope that she could go and find her parents in Australia now. It was something she had promised to do, she had kept them safe at the cost of their memory and now the time had come to reverse that. They were safe now, they shouldn't be held under the spell any longer.

It wouldn't be easy. Surely it would take time, but then the last year had never been particularly easy. If she would’ve had the extra worry of her parents well being added to the past year, she wasn’t sure she would’ve made it out to the other side.

One of the reasons she had always been so studious was that she simply did not like admitting to her ignorance, having to say, 'I don't know' and yet there was much she did not know. There were no answers in books for her when it came to this.

She didn't know where they had gone precisely, if they even stayed there, and what they were doing. All she knew is that she had sent them to Brisbane. It was hard to believe it had been only such a short time since she had send them away, she supposed, because of all that she had endured, it made it seem like an eternity, a series of worried, sleepless nights that stretched out into forever in her mind but it hadn't even been a year yet.

It was strange, though a year consisted of only 365 days, in the grand scheme of things it was a negligible amount, even with her decreased life expectancy. Leaving on the hunt for Horcruxes seemed like a different lifetime. It seemed so distant that she could hardly make it a memory, part of her life when she obliviated them for their safety, a memory she supposed her head knew she'd rather forget and therefore kept bringing up in her dreams, and started her search, holding only a vague sense of hope and the certainty of what was right.

"Hey, you," said Harry, snapping her out of her trance.

He looked just as tired as her, deep shadows under his eyes. But even that did little to dispel how happy he looked. Somehow, he managed to give off the image of exhaustion and happiness at the same time.

"Hey," She said, her voice caught in her throat, making it come out small.

She was exhausted, so exhausted she was surprised she hadn't fallen forward yet and though the terrors of what she had been through that night kept her awake, rooted to the spot in discomfort all she could imagine at the moment was a warm bed where she could curl into and sleep for days.

Though her parents were dentists, not therapists, Hermione had long believed in the importance of a proper night of sleep. Not having to deal with the confusing set of emotions that bubbled inside of her, she pushed that task to later. She could not deal with it that way forever, of course. She would have to deal with what ailed her eventually. but rest seemed to her, at that moment at least, like something she couldn't help but solely desire.

Hermione knew it well; she was the right person to declare that the right answer was not always the most complicated one. It was just a simple thing, she wanted to sleep because she thought that finally, she could maybe get a good night's rest. It made sense if one thought about it, which was something that in her state she was not overly inclined to do. When was the last time she had slept somewhere comfortable, somewhere safe? For the past year, she had always slept with one eye open, a light sleep, overly sensitive to any noises or disturbances. It was as if all the wards and protections she had put up did not overly assure her of their safety.

Every time she slept while on the run, it felt as if her mind kept working, always ticking over. It had not mattered that she slept a lot because there was little else to do while camping, she woke up tired almost every single day. It wouldn't do well to complain, however, it was nothing compared to the burden Harry was carrying.

"So, what's next? What's the next plan for the great war heroine Hermione Granger?" He asked with a cheeky smile.

It was an attempt at levity, an attempt at poking fun at the situation because they both knew they hadn't done it for fame. She supposed she was a war heroine now, that the title would stick with her, no matter where she went or how much time would pass.

That did not overly matter at the moment, however.

"Sleep, and maybe after I do that, sleep some more?" A giggle made its way upwards and escaped her lips.

Though the environment was heavy, and grief seemed to emanate from the stone themselves, almost as if Hogwarts itself were crying, it felt good to laugh.

Harry put an arm around her and squeezed her.

"You and me both, You and me both."

"Harry?"

She didn't want to bring the subject up with him right now, and she would've preferred to do it with both him and Ron together, but Ron had more important and pressing things he was dealing with, he was mourning the loss of his brother Fred, so it could wait.

Hermione knew Ron well enough to know that her departure might (and in all likelihood would) not sit well with him, and she hoped that he would understand that her work was still not done yet. Stricken by grief as he was, comforted by his family, she hoped he'd understand. She had to find her parents, no matter the cost to her personal life.

"Hmm," he didn't look up at her, but still held her tightly in his arms.

It was a gesture that filled her with comfort, though she knew the safety provided by his arms to be fleeting. Harry had defeated Voldemort and yet in many ways, he was in a more fragile state than she was.  
"I think I need to leave soon"  
Months of living together had trained them to be in tune. Hermione appreciated that a lot, Harry did not try to convince her to stay nor told her it was a bad idea, he just accepted it and moved on. It was one of the few areas where he was more practical than her, by not feeling the need to question everything.

"Where too?"

"Australia."

There was no need for specifics nor even to say anything more.

"When will you be back?" he asked.

She looked him straight in his eyes, tears spilling involuntarily from her eyes at how lucky she was to have a friend like Harry. Maybe it was just that her tear ducts were connected to her stress levels, even with the victory she was stressed beyond her years, but she truly did appreciate how Harry understood her without the need to go overboard with information. He understood what she had to do. He would do the same if the roles were reversed.

"I don't know" she began "but I think once I do find them, I would like to stay with them, I don't even know if I can reverse the spell yet without doing any more damage to their minds. I want to spend some time with them. Just doing normal things for once. Don't get me wrong Harry, as much as I 'enjoyed' being on the run with you, I would like a small holiday" She said with a smile looking up in the sky. "I'll tell Ron tomorrow; I need to get out"

"Write to me?" Harry asked, smiling and mocking in the same way she used to pester both him and Ron to always write to each other during the summer break. 'Every week' she remembered him telling her after 4th year.  
She laughed hard and replied.  
"Every week"  
And she winked at him.

"What's going on inside?"

Although she had a vague idea of what was happening inside the great hall, she didn’t want the talk with her friend to end just yet.

"Well, you have some of the injured being attended to by Madam Pomfrey, Neville is helping her with that along with a few Hufflepuffs. A couple of Aurors are rounding up the dead bodies to identify them and notify their families. Kingsley is rounding up the remaining Death Eaters that were too wounded to flee and Malfoy is there with his mum."

"Malfoy? Is still here? But why?"

Hermione was shocked, she would've bet the entire contents of her vault that the Malfoy's would be among the first Death Eaters to run.

"Don't look shocked Hermione, both you and I know where their loyalties lay, I can't lie anymore, she saved me Hermione" He looked sad. "Malfoy never intended to kill Dumbledore, I already told you the events on the Astronomy Tower that night and he didn't identify us at the manor. Can you imagine what would've happened if they gave me up and handed me over to 'Him'?" He took a deep breath before continuing "They would've been rewarded handsomely, it would have been the safer option, but they didn't"

"But-" Hermione tried to speak and interfere, speak to stop him and remind him that Malfoy was not a good person, a bigotted bully that had tormented her for years, but Harry simply held his hand up to silence her.

"No Hermione, you need to see reason, maybe even put yourself in their shoes. Listen, don't get me wrong, I am not sitting here defending Malfoy's father, Lucius is a bastard, and I won't be defending him here or later when the time comes for us to testify in front of the Wizengamot, but Narcissa and Draco," He paused.

Harry looked far ahead at some point beyond the movement in the Great Hall. It was as if, in the same way, that one could see the night sky in the Great Hall, he could see further ahead than the broken Hogwarts pieces that lay in shambles.

Finally, he spoke. "I honestly won't be able to sleep at night if I let them both go to Azkaban. You told me after the events of the sixth year that Draco was just a child. I was traumatised back then, but I get it now. So, to answer your next question. Yes, I still don't like the ferret, but I will always side with justice."

A tiny smile made its way to Hermione's lips at the mention of the ferret Malfoy had once been turned into. Though she could not feel the same way, as it seemed Malfoy had taken offence to her very existence, the same silent kinship that had helped Harry understand she needed to go to Australia went both ways.

Hermione knew not to press this matter any further, although she couldn't feel the same way as Harry did towards the Malfoy's, she felt that time might yet change that. She rubbed her scar subconsciously and her mind started to wander back to that awful day, but as quickly as her mind wandered she stopped herself. It would be easy enough to fall for the trap of reliving her worst moments and feeling sorry for herself.

Hermione valued thought, but what she needed right now was action. Having something to strive towards, having a goal would help her keep her mind off such things. She needed to find her parents.

She got up from the stone she sat on and turned to say goodbye to Harry and promised to see him and Ron before she left for Australia.

…………

It took Hermione almost three months to find her parents. She managed to stay in Australia for all this time except for the couple of times she had to go back, via portkey, to England, in order to testify or submit her memories as evidence.

She was able to testify for Malfoy but was not able to sit out the hearing for his judgment as her return portkey allowed her only an hour to finish her business at the Ministry and return to Australia.

She wondered if it had been designed that way on purpose, a small show of mercy that allowed her not to enable her nursing her trauma.

Other things were on her mind however, she first arrived in Brisbane in early June, and made her way around the city, trying and hoping to just stumble upon her parents. She knew the method to be a waste of time, as it relied on pure blind luck but she could not think of anything else to do. She has exhausted many of her ideas of how to find them, she had also gotten in touch with the Ministry of Magic in Australia.

While on her search, she kept communicating with both Harry and Ron, keeping her updated on things back home. She was told that most of the Death Eaters had been caught and were being dealt with accordingly.

Hermione did not know herself to be a spiteful person, she did not think herself to be ruled by anger and yet she found herself, despite knowing how terrible Azkaban could be, satisfied with the decision. It was not so much justice as it was vengeance, but she could only lament the lack of Dementors in the prison after the war.

Harry had also mentioned Malfoy being sentenced to two years on a new rehabilitation program the Ministry had started to reform young Death Eaters and sympathisers. Hermione had chosen not to think about that either, conflicted as she still was about Malfoy.

Harry had also mentioned in his owls that he had decided to move in with Andromeda Tonks along with his godson Teddy for the time being. He felt comfortable and content to be with family. Harry deserved to be happy, and she would support any reasonable decision he made. He also mentioned that Hogwarts wouldn't be ready to open this year as it still had a long way to go to rebuild it, but McGonagall had told him that they were hopeful that it would re-open the following year.

The last bit of news soured her mood slightly. Hermione had always thought that if the war was won, she would definitely be going back to finish her final year and take her N.E.W.T.s. However, maybe this would work out, she could keep on looking for her parents and not worry about going back to England in September. Ron, on the other hand, was not doing too well. He was still mourning the loss of his brother, but he was trying. He had been helping George deal with the death of his twin and with the business that both twins had started. Ron had never been the most eloquent of writers but even she could tell something was wrong by how brief and formal the letters were. As if he were holding back any feelings from her.

There wasn't much she could do though she tried to cheer him up through her letters. She was frustrated with herself and her inability to locate her parents and that was something that shone in her letters as the annoyance was slowly building. However, she was fine otherwise, and content with her life at the moment. She also informed them where she would be heading off to next and to wait for her owl.

September rolled around and she had been looking everywhere for her parents but to no avail. Her funds were running low too, with all the accommodation she had to acquire, a few times she had to lie to a sweet family to take her in for the night, food was also starting to become limited. After being on the run with Harry and Ron and having only scraps and mushrooms to eat, she had vowed to never go through that again, she would start getting anxious the hungrier she got and she promised herself to have a full warm meal at least once a day to try to keep her spirits up.

A few weeks before she intended to leave Australia to give up her search and go back to her friends, her chosen family, she awoke like every other day. Hermione got out of bed and went straight to the bathroom. Started the shower and proceeded to take her clothes off and fold them neatly in a corner so she could clean them later that night.

Stepping in the warm shower, she allowed it to soak her curly brown hair fully, she stood like that for what seemed like hours before she started scrubbing her hair with shampoo. As she was lathering the soap over her body, Hermione thought she heard a tap at her window.

Quickly dismissing that idea as no one knew her whereabouts, and she had informed Harry that she would get in touch with him after she had settled down in the new city. She was currently staying in a cosy bed and breakfast near Sydney Harbour.

She came out of her shower and started to towel dry herself. She wrapped one towel across her body and took another towel to wrap her hair and exited the bathroom.

Hermione had almost apparated out of her room when she saw a black owl sitting outside her window, tapping it lightly. She quickly thought how ridiculous she must have looked trying to run away from… what? And owl?

"I guess it would take some time for things to go back to normal," she thought darkly to herself.

She strode across the room in two big steps and opened the window for the owl. He hopped inside, dropped a letter in her hands and flew away immediately. Her first thought went straight to the Ministry of Magic in Australia. Perhaps they’d have some news of them locating her parents or maybe they just found a lead for her to follow.

Hermione dismissed that thought at once when she saw an elegant envelope with handwriting addressed to her that looked suspiciously like her father's writing, It was the way he wrote her name that she recognised. Her heart started to beat faster at that thought.

She didn't know which emotion to pick, excitement at the realisation that she finally had some answers to her quest or crippling fear that her parents were in some kind of trouble.

How would they have access to an owl? How would they even know about her at all? Did she not do a good enough job with her memory spell?

"There wasn't a chance of that," she thought glumly, even though she had never performed that kind of spell before she knew her wand worked well enough to know she had performed it correctly.

Immediately dismissing her last emotion, she simply told herself to wait to make an emotional judgment after she had read the letter.

She sat on the bed with her legs crossed, she took a deep breath and opened the letter.

Dearest Hermione,  
I hope that this letter finds you well.  
You must have many questions to ask after receiving a letter from me.  
I was contacted recently by the Ministry of Magic here in Australia which informed me about your search for your mother and me. I have so much to tell you princess, and you also have a lot of explaining to do, I suspect.  
I cannot promise that our meeting will be a happy one, but I miss you dearly and I cannot wait to see you again. It has been over a year since I've seen you, and a lot has changed.  
Please come to this location 25 Johnston Street, Gladstone, Queensland, it is where I live now, and I will try my best to explain all the events in the past year. I look forward to seeing you soon, princess.

Your loving father

By the time Hermione finished reading her father's letter, her eyes had filled with tears, which were now freely spilling over her cheeks.

She could not shake the feeling that something bad had happened. Why wasn’t there any mention about her mum? Was she not well? What had happened over the past year?

The letter left her feeling more miserable and uncertain than she had ever felt before. She couldn't help the sinking feeling she got in her stomach. Her guts told her to be prepared for anything, even the worst possible scenario. Should she inform her friends? Possibly the ministry? Ask for some backup?

As she traced the place her father had written on the letter and memorised it in her head, she decided against all those things as it would take time for her to sort everything out. She told herself that as long as she had her small bag and her wand, she could handle everything.

After all, she did help in defeating the darkest wizard the world has ever seen. She started to pack everything with a flick of her wand and went downstairs to check out and head to the place her father told her about.

………..

Hermione had to apparate to back to Queensland, as the location her father had told her about would be the closest to apparate to. She would still need to apparate a few times before reaching the nearest apparition point to the address on the letter. 

After popping into an alley, she pocketed her wand and stepped out onto the street. She hailed for a taxi and got in. She informed the driver of the address he had written out, and unafraid as she was of muggle men when she had dealt with werewolves and torture, she managed to relax as she was driven there.  
When she arrived at the place her father had mentioned, she paid the taxi driver his fare, wished him a good day and got out of the car.

She looked around at the silent neighbourhood. It was not at all similar to where she had lived with her parents. One row had similar houses lined next to each other, and on the opposite side of the row of houses, were four buildings. They weren't tall buildings; she would guess they were about 4 stories high.

Right in the middle of the row of houses was a greyish lonely house right in the middle of 23 and 27. But would that make the grey house number 25? It felt odd. Without any more hesitation, Hermione mustered all her courage and walked past the buildings and houses and stopped right in front of the grey house.

As she stepped over the threshold, she could feel the magical wards surround her and accept her into the property. The house was rather large and tall. The wards set off alarms in Hermione's head. She thought about the fact that her parents were possibly held captive. That they had been caught on their way to Australia by some rogue Death Eater and all the protection she thought she had given them had meant nothing.

Her worries disappeared when a friendly-looking elf popped in front of her to greet her.

"Miss Hermione! I is excited to meet you, my name is Edgar!" He squeaked.

"Umm hello Edgar, is my father here? I received a letter from him asking me to come and meet him here."

"Oh yes! Master and Mistress are waiting for you inside" He smiled happily.

Hermione felt a weight come off her shoulder when he mentioned 'mistress', but all this seemed bizarre and Hermione was not letting her guard down. She held on to her wand tightly as she was escorted inside.

It reminded Hermione of number 12 Grimmauld Place, and though the place had briefly felt like home it did nothing to help dismiss her feeling of dread. It just had the kind of look which she imagined all old wizarding houses, the burrow excluded, to have, with large hallways lined up with tacky wallpaper and a staircase that was as impotent as it was mysterious. The doors in the hallway were all closed except for the door all the way at the end of the hallway.

It was a massive door, easily big enough to fit Hagrid through without any issue. Thinking of her old friend, as silly as it was, gave her some comfort and she felt herself being lead on, as that was the only door open and so the only way to move was forward unless she were to try climbing stairs, it almost worked as a ward of her own as she moved.

As she stepped inside the living room, she was immediately met with her father, standing in front of a trolley pouring himself a drink. It was something that caught her off guard, though her father was a social drinker – he drank a glass of wine when in good company, he had never been one to indulge in alcohol on the regular and never at such an early hour. The glasses had never emptied themselves so fast either.

He had his back turned to face the fireplace, so she spoke, all she wanted to do was to fling herself into his arm, tell him how sorry she was. That it was necessary, that they wouldn't have allowed it to happen if she had discussed the plan with them. How she has missed them and thought about them every single day, how she loved them both very dearly.

"Daddy?" She said in a small voice.

She was still feeling unsure about the entire situation, something felt sketchy and off. Her hands held tightly on her wand.

"Hermione," He said woefully turning around and stepping forward, she could see some sort of pain dancing in his eyes.

He seemed… lost. He didn’t have that spark he once held in his eyes, he looked extremely weary and fatigued. His skin colour had a nasty tint of grey as if he rarely saw the sun. You could instantly see that he has aged by the newly formed wrinkles around his eyes and streaks of white in his hair. He kept walking towards her, and she saw him raising both his arms and wrapping them tightly around her. He inhaled deeply, almost as if he needed to smell her to be certain that it was really his daughter in front of him and said:

"Oh, how much I've missed you, my princess". She could barely hold her tears in, there seemed to be a lump stuck in her airway that stopped her from speaking, but she released her hold on her wand that was tucked in her pocket and wrapped her arms around her father.

"What happened? Where's Mum?" She asked.

As soon as she looked up to see her father, she knew something was wrong, something had happened to her, to them. He looked down on her sadly and shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

"Come, sit, princess. We have so much to talk about."

She followed him to the seating area and sat down on the sofa. He asked her if she would like something to drink and she decided she was thirsty and if this conversation was as important then she would need a cup of tea to cope with whatever information was about to be given to her.

"Edgar!" he called out.

'Pop'

"Yes master," he bowed his head down slightly.

"Could you please make us some tea, a big pot, please. Oh and …." He looked towards Hermione as he continued, "please put some cinnamon sticks in miss Hermione's teacup."

Edgar bowed his head again. He disappeared and appeared seconds later with a tray filled with sandwiches, biscuits, a big pot of tea, and two teacups, of which one had a single cinnamon stick inside.

This shocked Hermione to her core, not that this entire situation was bizarre as it was, but him remembering specific details about her only confirmed her theory that all his memories were brought back to him at some point in the past year. She stood as the elf disappeared.

Her eyes wide with shock, she asked "You remember everything? But how?"

He poured both teas and handed her cup to her.

"Hermione dear, before we start, I think you owe me an explanation about why you did what you did? Why did you feel like you couldn't come to me or your mother about this?"

"It doesn't matter, you remember everything, how long have you remembered everything?" She asked, her hand trembling under the saucer.

He looked up at her and said "about 8 months."

Hermione put her teacup down and straightened her spine, shocked.

"What! How? Why? Why haven't you tried to reach me? You seem to be all cosied up in this magical house, I think you had the ability to reach me like you did today." Hermione was shocked, and her anger stemmed from the shock, but her anger was not directed at her father but rather at herself. She could not help but feel like she had failed him.

"Hermione please sit down, have some tea, everything will be clearer once I’ve explained some things."

She sat down again, took a deep breath, and picked up her teacup again. A thousand questions bubbled up inside of her head, but she felt that would probably be answered faster if she did not interrupt.

"Go ahead," She took a sip of the tea, it tasted slightly odd, was this some new variety of Australian tea that she had never tasted before?

"Listen, this will be hard for me to explain, but you need to trust me and try not to interrupt me, I will answer all your questions when I'm done." He took a deep breath and started.

"After you erased mine and your mother's memories, we indeed did get on a plane and travelled to Australia which, as you know, we have always wanted to visit."

“At the time, it felt that Australia was a place we could build a home. I'm not even sure how the memory charm you bestowed upon us really works." He looked confused.

Hermione nodded her head and took another sip from her tea.

"Eventually, your mother and I had this nagging feeling that we lost something big in our lives but we couldn't quite put our fingers on it. It was like we were longing for something we never had. One day, your mother came to me, and opened the topic of adoption, seeing as both of us are well into our fifties and your mum would have had trouble carrying a baby. I thought it was a brilliant idea, I had no hesitation at all, and we started the process of adoption. We decided that because of our age, we should adopt older children." He took a breath and continued "We fell in love with two girls, they were siblings, and we decided to take them both. Everything seemed to run smoothly, we didn't even encounter any hurdles, and it all seemed to fit in place perfectly and it just cemented that our decision was the right thing to do."

Hermione was shocked but it was still understandable. So, this is what he had been afraid to tell her? That she would have sisters now.

She was not opposed to it, even if it had been sudden, but in the grand scheme of things, she was glad that her parents took care of two other girls.

She took another sip of her tea and she told herself that, as rude a thing to do as refusing the tea would be, she could not drink any more, not even a single sip. With everything happening, it tasted worse to her, almost off and perhaps it was to blame for the onset of dizziness she felt.

Her father stood from his armchair and turned his face around and continued talking.

"A few months after the adoption was completed your mother fell ill, we didn't see it coming and she just left us one day."

Hermione heard the teacup crash but caught in her grief as she was, she didn't register that it was, in fact, her teacup that crashed to the ground until later. She was not a stranger to grief, to loss but the fact that it was her mother hit her like a ton of bricks, in a much different manner than anyone else’s death had ever hit her.

"No! Where did sh-" Her lips were trembling, and it was hard to form words, though she knew the answer herself, she kept hoping for some other explanation, that she had left to a new location and not…

"Cancer," he replied as if reading her mind. "Please, princess, sit down, there’s still more to tell."

Hermione felt like her head was spinning and it just wouldn't stop. Sadness filled her heart at the thought of never seeing her mother again, how she had missed so many precious moments with her, how she must have been afraid and in pain during her last moment on earth, how she couldn’t be at her bedside during her last moments. Hot tears filled her eyes and started to stream down her cheeks.

"I met someone, someone I used to know from my past, Hermione, she was there for me during my darkest hours, I never imagined living life without your mother, she meant the world to me. But she was gone, I was left alone with two children to take care of, and we got reacquainted. Soon after, we married. Her name is Deinara. She's lovely and I’m sure you'll love her,"

"STOP!" she yelled. But as soon as those words left her lips a woman appeared from the doorway and she saw from the corner of her eyes a woman standing with a wand in her hand. She was completely caught off guard.

"Petrificus Totalus," Deinara casually flicked her wand towards Hermione and she fell.

Her heart was beating fast, she was kicking herself for not being more prepared, how many times had she practised wandless defensive magic? How many times had Harry taught her to always be prepared, no matter how safe an environment seemed to be?

She should have seen it coming, and yet she had not. How could she? She had come to find her father and even with the suspicion something was amiss she had let that blind her. She was so confused as to what was going on.

"Edgar!" The woman yelled.

"Please take her wand and possessions and hand them to me, then take her to her room," she said with a venomous tone in her voice.

Deinara stepped in front of Hermione and smiled wickedly.

Hermione couldn't help but think that her eyes denoted a sense of disgust and that her voice was filled with contempt as she spoke while pushing her away with her foot.

"Welcome to the family," she said, and Hermione's heart dropped. Was this her father’s new wife?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends!! 
> 
> I wanted first to thank everyone who took their time to read the first chapter of my story. Thank you to all that have clicked the follow button, it truly made me very happy, and I hope I don't disappoint you. 
> 
> Here is chapter 2, we get to see what happened to Hermione after she was petrified in the last chapter. I introduce you to a few new characters.
> 
> This chapter has been beta'd by my lovely friend hslade. 
> 
> See you in the next chapter!  
> Please feel free to review and tell me what you think so far. 
> 
> Kiwi  
> xoxo

When Hermione's eyes flung open, she quickly realized two things. One, she did not have her wand on her anymore, and two, she was not in the room she had passed out in.

Through being on the run with Harry and Ron, she had developed a pattern that she still unconsciously followed whenever she found herself in a difficult, possibly dangerous situation.

First, she checked if she could move her body. Not wanting to attract any attention, she attempted to move her fingers, which was a success.

_ Good _ , she thought to herself;  _ I am not paralysed. _

Next, she tried to make out as much of the room as possible without turning her head. She relied on her five senses for that.

Hermione found herself in a small, dark room that had a heavy old, moth-like smell to it. She slowly started to make out a small bed in one of the corners of the room.

Next, she closed her eyes to focus on what she could hear. She had done this ever since she had been a child, and even if there was little evidence that this worked, it strangely comforted her. Like she had expected, it was utterly silent.

She couldn't hear her dad, or the woman, or even the elf anywhere.

For the last check, the one she dreaded the most, she checked if she could feel the electric hum of her powers coursing through her veins.

Hermione couldn't.

That was the last straw, and it sent her into a complete panic. She dashed upright, jumping off the hard bed she was laying on.

_Back to the wall, eyes on the door, focus Hermione!,_ she reminded herself darkly. Cold sweat began to form on her neck as she felt the too familiar feeling of fear settling into her stomach.

Her body was still sluggish from the drug she assumed her father had put into her tea, so she moved a lot slower than she would have liked.

_ It was probably on the cinnamon stick _ , she thought angrily. How dare her father use her childhood preference against her like that?!

Swaying ever so slightly on her feet, she began making her way towards the wooden door.

_ I have to get out of here _ she attempted to calm herself, but her thoughts began to spiral “ _ I need to contact Harry and the Ministry and tell them that some Death Eater is still around and has my father under her control.” _

After the war, many of the students were offered to start going to therapists to work through their trauma. Hermione wasn’t around long enough for that. Harry mentioned it to her in one of his letters, and she pushed him to go instead.

But she would have needed it too. She still did.

In the months she spent searching for her parents, she began looking at alternative options as she wasn't in a single place long enough to seek out help. She thought it would be difficult to talk to a muggle therapist about everything that she had been through during the war. She would rather speak openly about the nightmares she was having and the torture she had been through. However, finding a magical therapist in Australia, where the magical community was significantly smaller than in England, had been challenging and would deter her from her mission to find her parents. She settled on visiting a therapist after she found them, but now, she found herself in this predicament. 

In the end, Hermione settled with breathing exercises found in books that she read at various libraries she had visited in Australia, for situations where she needed it most. Like this one.

With one hand, she steadied herself on the cold wall while the other one went to her chest, resting over her heart.

"Breathe in," she counted to four and held her breath for another four "breathe out."

Once Hermione found herself to be in a more stable condition, she carefully opened the door to peer outside.

To her right was an empty corridor, with a high ceiling and barely decorated walls. At its end there was a slim glass door that presumably led to a different part of the house. The door in front of the room she was in had a sign hanging on it.

As she snuck outside of her room, minding her footsteps, she looked around in case anyone was near.

The sign was made of dark oak and had the letters I and N carved into it beautifully. Hermione guessed that these were the names of her new sisters, provided that hadn't been a lie from her father.

Or the man that bore his likeness. She wasn't quite sure what was going on yet, but the man who had raised her, bandaged her scraped knees and had made sure she grew into the strong, beautiful woman that she was today would have never acted that way.

Based on all the events that had transpired in the past few months, Hermione was sure that it had to be some kind of dark magic.

Since the door with the sign on it was closed, she didn't attempt to open it, in case it activated some alarm put in place.

She saw a glass door down the corridor and stairs that led downstairs. She decided to take the stairs and find her way out of this house. She descended the hardwood stairs slowly, not wanting to attract any attention if there were anyone still in the house. 

When she landed at the bottom, she saw a big dark brown door that she could only assume would lead to the outside world. She hurriedly ran towards it and laid her hands on the knob. Immediately, Hermione yelled in pain and yanked her hand back to her chest. Her hand was throbbing. As if it had burned her. She instantly knew that wards were set in place to keep her in. Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath while the pain ebbed away; she was foolish to think she could just simply walk out the door. She scolded herself for thinking it would be  _ that _ easy just to leave. 

Instead, Hermione decided to be logical about the situation and have the patience to find out exactly what was going on. She turned around, remembered the glass door she saw upstairs, and slowly made her way back up the stairs to further investigate the house. 

Once she reached the top of the stairs, she walked towards the glass door down the corridor, passing another door. That one was open and revealed a small bathroom with a tiny window facing outwards.

Hermione went to investigate, only to find that some objects placed in front of the window obstructed her view to the outside world. She tried to move them so she could peek through. The witch had however charmed them to steadfastly stay in their place.

Bracing for a fight, she opened the glass door and crept onwards.

This hallway resembled the one she had entered through this morning but still looked vaguely different.

Hermione began questioning if she was even still in the same house that she had initially entered to see her father or had only been a ruse to lure her out. She felt the return of fear settle in her stomach but used it instead to give her strength to push onwards.

Looking around some more, she spotted a large mirror in one of the open living spaces. She rushed towards it to examine herself for any injuries she may not have noticed earlier.

Her hair was loosely curling around her shoulders, and her face looked fine too. She had opted to wear jeans, a pink jacket, and a white shirt with knee-high brown boots. It was cute for the first time to see her family again, and it was conveniently also combat-ready. Which she was happy about right at that moment.

There were no visible injuries on her, and Hermione felt herself relax ever so slightly at that realisation.

She saw the woman in the dress standing behind her in the mirror before she heard her. She was tall, almost as tall as Hermione's father, and rather stout. Her black hair was strangely thin and hung around her face like a spider web.

"Hello, Hermione," lulled the woman, "I'm so glad to finally meet you properly."

Whirling around, Hermione pretended to keep her eyes on the woman, while looking around for a window, a door, and any exit that she could use to make a run for it. She wouldn't attempt to use it, for now, she wasn't stupid enough to repeat the same incident that happened downstairs, but it was useful to have it as a reference for the future. 

"It's useless, dear," replied the woman as if she had heard her thoughts, "there are no exits here for naughty children."

"Who are you, and what do you want from me, from my family?" Hermione asked the woman, coldly.

A twisted smile graced the woman's face. "Ahhh, my dear, but hasn't your father introduced me already?"

Upon noticing Hermione's choice to remain silent, she tsked while bashfully looking away, "I am Deinara, your father's wife. We met ever so briefly yesterday, but I doubt you remember much. So let me remind you that you came seeking your parents and found that your father had remarried, and you have two little sisters now. Don't worry you about them by the way, you will meet them shortly. For now, I just wanted to talk to you myself."

The woman may not have recognised it, but she had given Hermione valuable information.

_ So, I've been knocked out for at least a day, give or take some hours, and my two sisters are real.  _ She thought eagerly to herself.  _ That means at least some of what Dad told me had been true. He wasn’t a complete liar. _

"I understand that you may be at a loss for words, so come and join me in the art room, where we can talk and maybe enjoy some light food. You must be hungry after all this nonsense." Deinara didn't wait for her to follow and began striding off towards her destination.

Hermione had two choices. She could dash it again and try to find a way out of the house, but without her magical abilities, that would be hard. On the other hand, she could go along with whatever was going on for now, until she saw an opportunity that she could use to escape successfully.

Hermione was a smart girl. She was one of the most brilliant ones of her time, so she decided to go with the latter. Without hesitation, she began following Deinara and stepped into the Lion's Den.

* * *

The art room was brighter than she had expected. Dim light fell through high up windows and beautifully illuminated the pale furniture in the room.

Deinara sat in a fancy chair on the other end of it, legs tightly pressed together, and gloved hands elegantly folded in her lap. Still, it was hard to ignore the menacing feeling she gave off, causing Hermione to avoid her eyes as she approached.

"Come, please sit," Deinara gestured to one of the empty chairs beside her, "We should talk."

Making sure to keep a healthy distance between them, Hermione inched towards the cushioned chair and sat to her left.

"Coming back to our earlier conversation," began Deinara, "I do hope that we can get along. Your sisters and I certainly do. I understand that you must feel a great loss after learning that you have lost your mother and was not able to be at her side in her final moments, and I will not try to replace her, but please remember that I am here for you."

Hermione gritted her teeth. "Why did you drug me? Why did you kidnap me?! What are you trying to do?!" She couldn’t play nice before she at least got a couple answers.

Deinara didn't even blink at her tone, "Because you were threatening our family, of course."

Recoiling into her chair, she felt her voice break as tears threatened to fall, "I threaten our family?! You are the witch that came into MY family and bewitched my poor father! How dare you-"

A gentle knock on the door abruptly silenced Hermione, and a second later, the wrinkly face of the house-elf she had met at the front door peaked through the door. "Excuse me, mistress. The young ladies are waiting for you in the dining room. You asked me to take them there as soon as they arrived from school".

"Yes, one moment, Edgar," responded Deinara.

She suddenly produced an ink feather and a blank piece of parchment and laid it out on the small coffee table in front of them.

Hermione stared at it, questioningly for a few moments before Deinara sighed, annoyed.

"Listen, dear. I got you this paper so that you could contact your friend -Harry I believe your father said his name was- to share the great news with him!"

Hermione blanched at the fact that this woman knew her friends by name.

Deinara had a sickly sweet smile plastered on her face "You should tell them the great news that you have found your family, and that you will be staying with them for a while. Make sure to mention that you want to spend more quality time with them; they should not bombard you with letters."

"I will do no such thing!" Hermione yelled, "I am not staying either, so unless you release me now, I will-"

"You will what?" Deinara asked, dropping the fake smile that had been plastered on her face". Deinara flicked her hand, and instantly, Hermione felt her entire throat close up. The woman was using wandless magic.

She must have been a powerful witch.

Hermione started to choke, and tears threatened to spill from the pain she felt. "You are in my house. I have your father under my thumb. I have your sisters under my control, too. Unless you want me to involve them in our little dispute, you better do what I tell you to do." Deinara spat and immediately released her magic on Hermione. 

Hermione coughed hard, fighting for air to fill her lungs. She took deep breaths before looking back up at the evil woman that sat next to her. She knew she had to play along. She had learned to go with the events until she saw an opening to strike successfully. Preparing was 50% of a plan's success in her opinion, so she knew it was better to act less knowledgeable and hide your cards until you were sure to win.

Besides, she didn't even know if she was in the same house that she had passed out in yesterday. It looked the same, but also very different, so her best chance was to do as Deinara said. For now, at least.

"Fine," she whispered defeatedly.

She watched Deinara's face light up happily. "Excellent, Hermione, dear! Now, let's meet your sisters. What do you think?"

Like earlier, she didn't wait for her to respond and simply marched out the door instead.

Hermione heard her heartbeat pound in her ears from all the bundled up anger and frustration, but once again, she chose to act with logic rather than rely on messy emotions. If her father had told the truth, these girls must have met her mother at some point. She could properly ask them about who Deinara indeed was and how her -now their- father had changed this much.

The house-elf, Edgar, if she recalled correctly, bowed in shame as she passed by as if to apologize for his help in drugging her yesterday.

Part of her wanted to stay and talk to him, but she had an odd interest in meeting these girls who were now supposed to be her siblings. Were they real? So, she hurried after Deinara instead.

The dining room was smaller than the art room, but just as pretty. The walls were painted in a strip fashion, and countless paintings and lamps decorated them. She found it very odd that the portraits were eerily still and unmoving. How come there were no magical portraits in a magic house? In its centre was a large oval table made of dark wood with eye-catching engravings

There sat two little girls. The oldest looked irritated, and the smaller one had a huge smile plastered on her face. 

"Hello girls, so glad you could join us so quickly. This is your sister, Hermione. Hermione, these are your sisters: Imani and Nia".

While Deinara sat down in between the two sisters, at the head of the table, Hermione sat on the other end.

The two girls were much younger than her. She would have guessed that they were still at the beginning of their teenage years. The younger one looked around eleven or twelve, and the older one looked like she was about fourteen.

They were still clothed in their school uniforms, very different from the one she had grown up wearing. The older one wore her shirt partially tucked outside of her pleated skirt, and her tie was tied only loosely around her neck. She had shaved one side of her hair completely and kept the rest of her hair short too. She looked to be a rebel and wanted to show it.

The younger one had large, green, bright eyes and cute pigtails. Her uniform was neat and tidy, and she tilted her head at Hermione innocently.

A gentle knock on the door interrupted them once again "Mistress, I know you said not to disturb, but-"

Deinara spun around to face Edgar, anger cracking her controlled facade, "Yes, Edgar, I did. So why are you disturbing me?"

Edgar looked at the floor, and his overall posture seemed petrified, but he responded anyway.

"You also said that if the Lady were to call, I must immediately come and inform you."

Hermione couldn't help but notice how Deinara's eyes widened excitedly at the mention of the so-called "Lady," so she deduced that she must be an important figure to Deinara.

"Excuse me, girls. I will return shortly," with that, Deinara pushed her chair back and hurried out of the room, Edgar obediently hot on her heels.

_ This is my chance! _ Hermione thought excitedly after a moment. She could easily use this opportunity to look for an escape for later. She felt her heartbeat increase happily at that thought.

Just as she was about to bolt out of her chair, Nia put up a hand to get her attention, "Don't bother, Hermione."

"What do you mean?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

"You won't find an exit at the moment. She has made sure of that. The only way for you to leave the house is to play along with her rules. For us, it's to go to school. I am not sure what she has told you, but just play along with it." Nia replied, leaning back in her chair. She seemed confident, even cocky, and very convinced with what she was saying.

Hesitating slightly, Hermione sat back down in her chair. She had just met those girls, but they seemed sharp and had immediately guessed her actions. Maybe it would do her some good to listen, for now.

Imani propped her chin on her hand "It's better that way."

After a moment of silence, Hermione decided to start a conversation with them, maybe she could gather some useful information "So, where are you from?"

"Here. We're Australians." Nia replied coolly. Unlike her younger sister, Nia had sharp onyx eyes lined with eyeliner that pierced into Hermione's. She and Imani seemed to share the same black, coiled hair, though.

"And how old are you girls?"

"Old enough to take care of ourselves," Nia answered sneering.

"Eleven!" Imani declared at the same time throwing her hands into the air.

A little giggle bubbled up in Hermione's chest at that. They were very different people, but it was evident that Nia was only trying to protect Imani and herself. She hoped that she could get the girls to warm up to her during her stay here. However long that may be.

Just as she was about to ask about Mum, the massive doors of the dining room swung open once more.

This time it was the familiar face of her father that came through.

She could feel a mess of feelings bubble up within her. Some childish happiness at seeing her father again, sadness at the circumstances that they had to meet under and anger. Unbridled anger because of the betrayal of her trust in him.

"Hey, Dad." Nia started, but he ignored her.

It was so strange to see someone else other than her call her father that. And if it were not for her mother missing and this snake trying to take her place, she would have maybe liked it, could've grown used to it. Big sister Hermione did have a nice ring to it. She had to admit.

Hermione only now began noticing that something seemed off about her father.

He looked tired, but not the way he used to look after long hours at the dentist's office, instead he looked worn out as if he hadn't slept or eaten properly in a whole year.

He solely ignored Imani's greeting, too, and went straight to sit at the table beside them. The sisters shared a look as if they were used to that behaviour and instead began conversing with one another.

This wasn't right. Her father would almost always greet her and her mother and pepper them with kisses and hugs when he returned home. He would ask about Hermione's day at school and actively listen to her ramble on and on about trivial things.

This man was nothing but a shell of what her father used to be.

Hermione cradled her head between her hands in an attempt to remain sane. She began her breathing exercises, and they helped calm her down, but she was still on edge. So many things had changed too abruptly in her life in a way too short timeframe for her to keep up with. Her father. Her mother. Her two new sisters, who acted like all of this was completely normal. And this woman. As a last resort, to avoid her doing permanent damage to herself or her sanity, her body took control of her sweaty fingers and delivered her sweet, black rest. She fell off her chair with a loud thud. 

* * *

  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guy! 
> 
> Here's the third chapter of this story... We get to find out more about Deinara intentions. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading it and I shall see you guys in a couple of weeks :D 
> 
> Beta love goes to hslade
> 
> Kiwi

In all of her short life, Hermione had fainted only a handful of times. When she realized that she lost consciousness consecutively in the past two days, she felt the anger begin boiling in her otherwise empty stomach once more. Other than the breakfast she had at the B&B in Sydney and the cursed tea the day before yesterday, she had been running on an empty stomach so far.

Groaning she rolled around in the uncomfortable small bed, before pushing herself into an upright position.

The sunlight was streaming faintly through the window, illuminating the room ever so slightly. Across her own, she could make out another bed with a still lump on top of it.

It took Hermione a few seconds to realize that the lump wasn’t still at all but instead moved slightly in a rhythmic pattern.

“Hello?” she called out softly to it. She doubted that it was the witch or her father, but maybe one of the girls had spent the night here. The lump appeared to be rather small.

The blankets covering the lump shifted slightly, revealing the tell-tale skin and tattered clothes of a house-elf.

“Edgar is not allowed to speak to Hermione, Mistress said. Mistress said to go report to her once she is awake,” replied Edgar. His voice sounded as if he hadn't drunk water in a long time.

Hermione reached out a hand towards the blanket mess, but the house-elf dashed past her, out the bedroom door.

Sighing, she lowered her hand and began getting out of bed instead. Quite honestly, she felt disgusting. While on the run with Harry and Ron she had often gone weeks without a proper shower or a change of clothes, but since then she had never gone more than two days without at least a quick rinse. She instinctively reached for her wand to give herself a quick  _ Scourgify _ . She felt a pang of sadness when she remembered she did not have her wand. She felt lost and insecure without it, it was just as though she had lost a part of her body. She closed her eyes and optimistically tried to sense the magic that had once coursed through her veins. Nothing. 

She looked down at herself and noticed that she had been wearing this outfit for more than two days, slept in it twice, and hadn’t even seen a single drop of water. She wrinkled her nose at the thought. Everything she held dear to her had been taken away. Her most precious possession, her magic, stripped away. Her wand, confiscated. Her beaded bag, that held all her belongings, most likely hidden somewhere. She found some comfort in knowing that it could not be destroyed. She had used some strong protective spells ever since her run with Harry. She didn't know if she should be sad or angry. 

Above all else, she had lost her mother. Hermione was not given the time to properly mourn her mother. She desperately wanted to scream, yell, and punch something, anything. But with everything happening all at once, she pushed the dark thoughts out of her mind and focused on the single most important thing at the moment. She needed to find a way out of here.

As if on cue a loud stomach rumble caused her to grimace. She was hungry.

Since the house-elf still hadn’t returned, she chose this opportunity to go explore the house a little more, and hopefully find some food. She was sure that now she was in the same house as yesterday so that at least was a small relief.

Hermione had mostly memorized the layout through the rooms in the house she had been in or caught a glimpse of before, but she still didn’t know where she could find the kitchen. Like yesterday the house was eerily quiet, meaning that her father and sisters were probably at work and school respectively, and she wasn’t sure what the woman did during the day.

The click of her boots echoed through the silent corridor as she made her way to the living room. It was best to start from a familiar room and explore from there.

All the walls she had encountered were only sparsely decorated, with no family pictures or paintings that would breathe a little life into the house. She found the house to be strange and mysterious. A house-elf and a witch, but nothing in this house indicated that it was magical or inhabited by magical beings. It appeared when she arrived that it was situated in a muggle neighbourhood. This house appeared to be muggle too. There were no moving paintings in the house, and as she walked through the house, she noticed light switches and electrical outlets. She instantly wondered if there are any telephones in the house that she could use and call for help. But how would she contact her friends? They didn't own them at all. Every time Hermione found a solution to her problem, she would be the one to second guess it and shot it down. 

The floor was made of green tiles, cold and hard to the touch. In some areas, one could find bizarre-looking carpets with mysterious markings on them, but upon closer inspection, Hermione could not determine what they were.

After an entire hour of searching, she had still not found the kitchen. Either it was not on this floor, or it was hidden by the witch. The latter was more likely.

Irritated and hungry Hermione trotted back to her room. She was too tired and weak to try to even run away at this moment. Nia and Imani had mentioned that Deinara had put protections in place so that she couldn’t escape, and she didn’t feel like risking bodily harm when she wasn't sure she would have the energy to reach the end of the street.

She flopped back onto the bed, contemplating what she could do next.

On one hand, she still had to write the letter to Harry, whether she wanted to or not. Even though she had been racking her brain for what secret code she could put into the letter to alert Harry to her current situation, some part of her thought that she shouldn't. Should she involve him in yet another problem? He just won a war, he had been carrying the weight of the entire wizarding world on his shoulder since he was 11.  _ No, no, I can wait and see if I can get myself out of here without bothering him  _ she tried to convince herself.

Maybe she had missed it earlier but as she looked around her small bedroom once more, she noticed the slip of parchment and the inked feather lying next to it. She hadn’t seen Edgar, or the woman come in, so it must have appeared out of nowhere.

Laying it out on the bed in front of her she frowned momentarily.

What was she supposed to write again?

Deinara had been pretty clear with what she should say, and since Hermione wanted to avoid any more issues with her, at least until she had the upper hand in the situation, she began writing.

_ Dear Harry, _

_ I hope you and Ron are doing well. Can you believe it; I have finally found my family! They were in Australia all along. Since I’ve only just found them recently, I want to spend a little more time with them. I haven't reversed the spell yet, I'll be doing some extensive research before I attempt it. I will update you on their progress in due time. How are the rebuilding efforts going? I am sorry that I am not more helpful at the moment, but I hope you can understand why I want some time with my family for now. I was thinking that after I reverse the spell and nurse them back, I might suggest we travel around the world for a little while, just the three of us. I promise to be back before Hogwarts re-opens. I´ll get in contact with you as soon as I can. Please don’t worry about me. Say hi to Ginny and the others from me. _

_ Love, Hermione _

With the blue ink still glistening a dark marine blue, Hermione rolled back on her bed. She hoped that the way she had signed off the letter would give Harry a slight hint to something being wrong. She usually signed off with her full name and used “yours truly” instead.

When Hermione had thought of a plan she had to be careful not to use any obvious giveaways that would alert Deinara. And using a loving tone when talking to a friend really shouldn’t be an obvious giveaway.

Smiling slightly to herself she draped an arm across her eyes as she leaned back. Her stomach rumbled again, louder this time.

As if summoned by the growling, a timid knock echoed through the otherwise empty room. Expecting it to be Edgar, Hermione rushed to swing open the door and give him a piece of her mind but was taken aback instead.

Imani stood in front of her, hand still raised in the air from knocking. Upon seeing Hermione´s surprised face, she waved her hand instead, a toothy smile forming on her young face.

“Hi, Hermione, we wanted to check up on you to see if you were feeling better!” the younger girl squeaked.

Hermione´s eyes trailed from the smiling Imani to Nia, who stood expressionless in their room´s door frame, thin arms crossed.

“Ima wanted to check up on you. Don’t think that I had anything to do with that. I’m just here to make sure you don’t do anything stupid, like try to escape again.” She narrowed her eyes at Hermione. 

The stuck up, yet caring attitude reminded her of someone, but she wasn’t sure who.

Cracking her door open, she smiled at the girls “Don’t worry. Please come on in.”

Imani hopped ahead into the room as if she had been invited into a palace instead of the tiny bedroom. Nia tsked and pushed herself off the wall, following her younger sister wordlessly.

Closing the door behind her, Hermione spun around, only to find Imani holding a red ball close to her face. Blinking the confusion away she realized that it wasn’t a ball, but a shiny tasty looking apple instead. Hermione felt her eyes drift back and forth between the two girls, Nia only shrugging nonchalantly.

“You looked like you were hungry. Go ahead, eat up!” Imani encouraged smiling from ear to ear. 

In all her life Hermione had never met anyone who smiled as much as this little girl. She looked at Nia, standing behind her younger sister with a more relaxed facial expression and the hint of a smile on her face. As soon as the older girl noticed Hermione’s staring the guard went back up and onyx eyes stared mercilessly into her brown ones. It was becoming clearer now that it was Nia who ensured to take the blame of her sister so that she could be happier.

“Thank you, Imani.” She whispered as she bit into the fruit. She had to stop a small moan from escaping her lips. It tasted sweet and fresh and seemed to provide her with an instant energy boost.

“Mom used to like apples just as much,” Imani said absentmindedly.

And just like that. The pressure was back on.

She wanted to ask, but where could she start? 

How did they meet her? How had life been with her and her father? Who was Deinara to them and where had she come from?

As Hermione felt her head beginning to spin from all the emotions, a hand came to steady her. The surprise must have been so evident on her face that Nia pulled away immediately. 

Hermione noticed a set of faded yellow bruises on her arm, she instinctively wanted to ask her how she got them, but it was too soon and Nia seemed to be very guarded and apprehensive towards her. 

Nia sighed, closing her eyes and turning away from Hermione “Mum was a lovely woman, always so full of light and love. You look a lot like her, and it set me off when I saw you in the dining room that first time. When mum and dad adopted us it was like a dream come true. Imani and I are… not from a very good background, so when the orphanage shared that we'd be getting adopted it was mind-blowing to us.”

Hermione could hear her draw in a breath to calm herself, so she waited patiently for Nia to continue.

“Suddenly we had all these fancy things we didn’t have before. Mum would cook amazing meals and when she baked on the weekends, we always offered to help her. Dad would join too and at the end and we would usually be covered in flour and cake batter but…it felt so good to finally be part of a loving family.”

Nia hugged herself unconsciously. Hermione found it fascinating to hear all about the lives that these girls had lived with her parents during the time she had fought a war. Some selfish part of her wondered what it would have been like if she had been there with them.

“And then everything changed. Mum got sick and after a few months, before we knew it, she had left us. Those had been the hardest months of my entire life.” Hermione could see the wetness of Nia´s eyes but decided against commenting. It was astounding that she had opened up so much to her already and she didn’t want to push it.

Imani who had been uncharacteristically silent took over for her sister.

“We don’t know when, but at some point, Dad brought the woman home. In the beginning, we had hoped that she was just a fellow professor, but her…romantic intentions soon became clear. She began staying around for longer hours, came to visit more frequently and at some point, we were told that we were moving.” Imani pouted. 

Hermione blinked in surprise “So this isn’t the house you grew up with Mum and Dad?”

Imani shook her head, making her pigtails bounce “No, the other house was way larger. We each had our room, too! And Edgar wasn´t here yet…”

“Deinara bought Edgar after we moved in here. Stupid woman thinking she can own another life.” Nia spat angrily, the distaste clear on in her tone. Nia’s eyes abruptly snapped up and she looked Hermione straight in her eyes “She’s not a good person”. Hermione nodded to her “She didn't give me the impression that she is one”.

Even though Hermione was immensely happy that the girls started opening up to her, she was quite perplexed about how to handle the situation. She had never had little siblings before - was that what she thought of the two little girls? - but she definitely wanted to help them escape too.

All three of them stood in silence, Hermione absorbed all the information she received from the two girls. After what seemed to be hours, Hermione looked up at the girls and was startled when she saw both of them stare back at her with blank faces. Seemingly having calmed down, Imani reached out for Nia´s hand and began pulling her towards the bedroom door “Lets go, it's almost the time that father comes home. You know how he gets when we aren't sitting at the dinner table when he gets back.”

A sharp pain struck her heart. Her father would be mad at them for not sitting at the dinner table? Her father would have never acted like that while her mother was still around, it simply wasn’t the type of person she had known him to be.

_ Was... Hermione! _ She bitterly reminded herself  _ this person used to be your father _ .

Grabbing the now written letter off the bed, she began hurrying after the girls down the corridor. 

As they moved through the house towards the dining room, Hermione began noticing more and more closed doors that seemed to simply not open.

“You´re a smart girl, Hermione, stay away from them,” Nia called back to her without turning around. It truly baffled her how that teenager was able to so easily read her.

As she entered the dining room, she found it to be empty, save for Edgar who was rushing to bring food back and forth to the table. His little twig legs appeared to be carrying much more than they should and Hermione cringed in discomfort.

Since Hogwarts, she had been an advocate for freeing house-elves and increasing their rights as mythical creatures, but with so many of them acting as servants and butlers, it was hard to get the ear from someone in charge that could try to make a difference. 

Which is why she decided that she would do it once she finished her NEWTs. 

Lost in thought, she missed her father stumbling into the room in a trance-like state, ignoring all three of his daughters again. As he took a seat at the head of the table, he glided down into the uncomfortable chair in silence.

Hermione sat next to her father, with Imani and Nia sat next to her in a row. It left the opposite side of the table entirely empty.

A moment later Deinara entered the room and the atmosphere seemed to drop from bad to worse. It was as if the air was suddenly charged with negativity and malicious intent, and Hermione unintentionally ducked her head to avoid eye contact.

Who was this woman and why did she have such an effect on her? She had faced death eaters far, far worse than her, so why did this woman have such an influence on her.

_ Because you care _ , a little voice whispered in her head,  _ you care about your family. _

As she watched the older woman strut around the dinner table as if it was a banquet laid out for her, anger began rising in her throat.

“Welcome all my darlings,” she greeted in an overly sweet voice, looking Hermione straight into the eyes “I hope you had a good day.”

Hermione knew better than to respond to the bait, so she simply sat there, with her arms folded and Harry´s letter tucked under her. She kept an expressionless mask plastered on her face as she carefully observed the actions of the others around her.

She could sense Imani stealing worried glances at her and Nia staring at her outright, but it was them on the line as well, so she wouldn’t do anything as of yet. She simply couldn’t risk it.

No one dared move a finger until the matron had taken her place on the other side and picked up her already filled wine glass.

“Well, let us eat.”

Hermione had often expressed gratitude before beginning to eat, but now all she could do was observe the others' behaviour. She doubted it, but there was the possibility that this food was laced with something, which might knock her out again and she didn’t think that her body could handle that. Or even worse, she thought the food would be doused with the same potion that took away her magic. 

Despite her stomach growling in hunger, Hermione kept her arms crossed and continued to force her way through this. There wasn't a reason for Deinara to drug her again, seeing as she had done as she was told and written the fake letter to Harry, but Deinara didn’t know that yet. And potentially worse, once she had done what the woman needed her for, she could potentially get rid of Hermione.

Thinking up possible plans she barely felt Imani nudge her under the table and gesture towards the food. She seemed to say “don´t worry, it's safe to eat” which brought tears to Hermione's eyes in gratitude.

She might not even trust her dad completely at the moment, but these two girls seemed to have so many of her mother´s characteristics - such as putting others first - that she couldn’t help but let her guard down a little.

However, Hermione couldn’t hold her tongue much longer and had to address one question. “Why take away my magic?” She blurted out. 

Deinara lifted a perfect eyebrow at her and gave her the most sickening smirk “Why dear, I wouldn’t think you would need it around here, you are a muggle after all” 

“Muggleborn!” She emphasized each syllable . 

“Ah, but dear, mudbloods like you don't deserve their magic” She looked down at Hermione's arm where the raw red scar she received from Bellatrix still throbbed and smiled evilly at her. 

Before Hermione could retort and defend herself any further she was silenced by Deinara’s wand. “You will not talk back to me, young girl or I can do so much worse than just silence your mouth, I’m sure you would dearly miss your tongue if it was ripped out of your mouth, wouldn't you say?” At that Hermione felt intimidated and scared, she felt helpless, she had no means to defend herself. She felt a headache creeping up and she nodded as confirmation she would be silent. 

At that, Deinara flicked her wand at Hermione again and she felt the restraints come off her. She looked to her dad then to see if he made any reaction to what just happened in front of him. It hurt Hermione to see that he was only looking straight ahead with a blank expression on his face. 

“And how was your day, Hermione?” her father asked all of a sudden.

The question cut through the tension in the air like a dagger, surprising not only Hermione herself.

Even though the smart part of her wanted to hold back and think of a smart reply, the childish and vulnerable part of her that she still associated with her parents won “Absolutely fantastic! There is nothing quite like continuously being knocked out and being locked into a house. Being kidnapped is so much fun, dad.” she sarcastically replied. 

Her father´s gruff face was still as expressionless as before, but his eyes lifted to meet hers slowly as if it cost him too much energy “Hermione, don’t say something like that.”

Her nostrils flared as she readied herself to retort, mean reply already on the tip of her tongue when Deinara raised a hand in silence.

“Hermione, did you finish writing the letter that I asked you to write? If you did, I don't think there is anything else still standing in the way.”

Hermione leaned back in the chair, eyeing the older woman suspiciously “You are just going to let me go? No way, what's the catch?”

Deinara blinked at her innocently but it was Hermione’s father that got a word in “We talked it over and decided that maybe you could start accompanying me to my job from now on. It would get you out of the house a little.”

“You want me to come to the dentistry clinic with you?” Hermione questioned unbelievingly.

Her father shook his head “No, no. I work at a nearby college now, as a dentistry professor. It pays better and it gives me more freedom at my age. You finished high school, didn’t you? I am sure you can find something you'd enjoy doing. Besides, you remember how often I used to have to go to the clinic on weekends.”

The memory flashed in front of her eyes for just a moment, and Hermione felt herself gripping onto her thighs under the table.

Nia and Imani were quietly shuffling the food around their plates, trying and failing not to seem to be paying too much attention.

Deinara looked smug now, this had clearly been part of her long-term plan.

But Hermione needed a way out, even if only for a few hours a day until she could find a way to leave for good. And hopefully, free sisters and her father, from whatever spell they were clearly under.

Besides, maybe it would be good for her to do something normal for once and gather some more knowledge while she could.

“Fine, I will do it.” She replied after a second. But she was also not dumb enough to believe that there wouldn’t be some kind of monitoring of her actions.

Her father nodded once before confirming exactly what she had thought “I am glad to hear that. However, there is a condition that you have to abide by.”

_ Ah, there it was _ . A grim smile crept its way onto her face.

“Which is?”

Deinara reached under the table before producing a small dark wooden box that she placed in front of Hermione. It didn’t look like much, but Hermione knew better than to judge something by its appearance.

“Inside of the box is a bracelet,” her father started “you must wear it at all times, and if you try to remove it, which you won't be able to, it will instantly knock you out and alert one of us to your location.”

Hermione gaped at the box. What was she, a convicted felon?

“Additionally,” Deinara continued, her eyes crinkling from smiling “it comes with a few charms embedded in it.”

_ Of course, there was more, _ she thought unimpressed.

“First, you cannot tell anyone about what is going on at home. It naturally stops you from speaking about it to anyone. Let’s just say that it would work the same way if you had made an unbreakable vow. However, if you do find a way, we will wipe the person's memories and ensure that you won't ever see them again.”

Hermione nodded to indicate that she understood. She doubted she would find anyone close by that would become a good enough friend that would help her escape her situation.

“Secondly, you must be within proximity to one of us at least once every 24 hours. If that isn’t the case the bracelet will instantly alert us to your location, and you will not be allowed to leave the house again. I would also advise you not to try running away. I’ll leave that up to you to find out what would happen, let me assure you, you wouldn’t be able to do it, even if you tried. Have we made ourselves clear?”

Hermione weighed the pros and cons of her situation, but without reaching some kind of middle ground she probably wouldn’t be able to escape the house at all.

Pushing her chair back, Hermione braced herself for her next task.

As she returned to her room, she threw the letter to Harry on the table as an answer to their question.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, please tell me what you think. 
> 
> I'll see you soon <3 
> 
> Kiwi


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